Dilemma
by wraith-goddess
Summary: George has a problem on her hands.


**I don't own Dead Like Me, I just think it's a cool show. Spoilers for "Reaper Madness" **

Georgia Lass had a big problem.

No, not the fact that she was dead, that she could deal with…for the time being.

In fact, George had a much larger problem on her hands. While the fact that Betty was dead-dead and the flouncy, New York City, Miss Gone-with-the-Wind, high maintenance, Daisy chick took her place still got under her skin, that wasn't what was bothering her at the moment.

Not even Rube with his lectures on accepting death as it comes and those damned annoying little yellow sticky notes of his were the object of her ire at this very moment.

George's problem was simple and complex at the same time. She came home from another delightful day working under the sickening smile and annoying voice of Delores Herbig (As in "Her big brown eyes") only to collapse on her couch and deal with another crappy part of the afterlife.

If Betty was still around, George would have talked to her, but, seeing as how she wasn't, George resigned herself to being on her own. She most certainly would _not_ talk to that primped, pampered bitch about her problem. The damn woman probably wouldn't hear half of it, and then give a half hearted response which stated without words that she honestly didn't give a crap about what the hell was going on.

The next morning when George arrived at "Der Waffle Haus", Roxy was the only person present. Eh, in a pinch, Roxy could be a good listener. As George slid into the booth she began speaking immediately.

"I have a problem."

"Did you lose your un-dead virginity or somethin'?" Roxy asked. Funny that was the first thing out of her mouth. George shook her head disturbed and muttered

"No, worse."

"Worse? You were high and lost your un-dead virginity?"

"Would you get your smutty mind out of the gutter for two seconds, please, Roxy?"

"Okay kid; joke's over, now tell me what the problem is."

"What's the un-dead rule about dating?"

"I don't know. The upper management changes the rules on us every ten years or so, and I got lost about two changes ago."

"See, my dilemma is this: Do I go after the hot, British, un-dead guy? Or should I go after the hot, schizophrenic, living guy?"

"You're hung up on Mason?"

"SHH!" George erupted. Half the coffee house was filled with reapers that knew who Mason was. It was kind of creepy in a way. George couldn't get it out of her mind that the waffle house was some sort of whacked-up, un-dead café of sorts.

"You _are _hung up on Mason!" Roxy half whispered with a devilish smirk. The two reapers promptly burst into a fit of hushed laughter.

"What's all this, now. Are you lot having fun without me again?" The familiar accent fell on George's ears and she snapped up to sit sideways on the bench and take up the room that could usually be occupied by two people, her usual scowl on her face. Hey, like she said, one of her biggest regrets in life was that she never learned to flirt. In fact, the only way she could relate to guys was through insults and pain, because that's all she'd ever gotten from them.

Suddenly, George was thrown into a nostalgic memory. She was in third grade and she wanted to play dodge ball at recess.

_"Can I play?" _

_"YOU? You're a girl!" _

_"Thanks, I'd noticed." _

_"Girls can't play dodge ball!" _

_"Why not?" _

_"'Cause girls are sissies. They never catch the ball and they always get out." _

_"Who are you callin' sissy?" George retorted and placed her hands on her hips. _

_"You, sissy!" _

_"I'll show you, Bobby Baron!" George lunged at the boy standing in front of her. Before he knew what hit him, George was sitting on his legs and was hitting his face, neck and chest with her fists as hard as she could. For lack of anything better to do, Bobby grabbed a large handful of George's hair and began to pull. She whimpered slightly, but didn't give up on her beating until a school official came and pulled her off of Bobby, and even then, she still reached out with kicking legs. Both Bobby and George were in the principal's office for most of the rest of the day. Joy was frickin ecstatic about that. _

"George?" Mason's lilt brought her back out of her daze. To this day she hated Bobby Baron and secretly hoped that she would have the pleasure of taking his soul. Maybe she could torture him first. That'd be fun.

"Sorry, bad memory." She replied and pulled her feet up to her chest so Mason could sit down.

"What was it of?" Mason took his seat

"I beat up this guy in third grade. We both got sent to the principal's office. My mother was thrilled to death over that." George said in her common, sarcastic tone as she poked the bottom of her glass with her straw.

"Was this boy a 'B. Baron'?" Rube asked as he sat down beside Roxy, diagonally from George's position.

"Yeah, why?" George's answer was a yellow sticky note with **B. Baron 572 April Lane E.T.D. ** **10:04 A.M.**written on it slapped down on the table in front of her. For once, George was excited about her job. She beamed with fiendish glee on the outside, and inside she was thinking, _"Hallelujah, Bobby Baron's soul is MINE!"_.

"You seem a little too excited about this for you own good, you know that already though, don't you?" Mason commented with a sideways smirk in her direction.

"Mason, you go with her."

"Rube, I don't need a chaperone anymore."

"I know, Mason's is the same time, only he has your little punching bag's wife to collect."

"Right, that's lovely. How do you think it turns out? They kill each other?" Mason joked lightheartedly and George replied in a snap.

"Wouldn't surprise me, I can't think of anyone who knew him who _didn't_ want to kill Bobby Baron."

"Well, I've gotta get to my appointment, see y'all later." Rube stood up and Roxy slid out of the booth, but not before giving George a folded up sticky note.

"_The living guys die on you, go for the hot, British, un-dead guy. You two could have beautiful un-dead children_." George had to give a slight laugh at Roxy's sideways humor that she put in.

"What's this now?" Mason asked as he tried to peek over at the note in George's possession.

"Just girl talk."

"Roxy? Girl talk? The un-dead world is falling to pieces at my feet." Mason put his hand to his forehead.

"Come on, better early than late for an appointment." George gave Mason a shove with her foot, indicating that she meant 'now', not fifteen minutes from now.

"Well, duty and the woman's foot call." Mason said brightly as he mock saluted to Rube and headed for the door. As George followed, Rube stopped her momentarily.

"Mason's a nice guy; he'd be good for you, Peanut." It was completely lost on George why Rube called her Peanut, he just did. George merely said

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Like she didn't care

Unfortunately, when they got to the site, George wasn't allowed to torment Bobby before his death. She and Mason posed as door to door salespeople, and it was first Mrs. Baron who opened the door. Mason shook her hand (obviously taking her soul in the process) before asking

"Is the man of the house around?"

"Yes, I'll get him for you, one moment." A few minutes later, Bobby appeared at the door. He looked surprisingly similar to the way he did in third grade, but George knew she herself looked entirely different. George reached out, shook his hand (taking his soul) and asked if he wanted to buy some absurd product that naturally didn't exist. It was perfect because very few people actually buy from door-to-door salesmen. Mason and George graciously accepted the 'no' and walked on.

"What a pity I wasn't the one to kill him." George remarked as she walked.

"I do believe I like the way you think, George."

"Thank you."

"Do you want to get some grub? I missed breakfast you know."

"Alright."

As the two sat in a booth at a small diner, George had to keep reminding herself that this was NOT a date. After they had finished (and split the bill) they walked down the street, simply taking in the sight of the town.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to sneak into a movie later?"

"That'd be great."

Over the next few months, George noticed that Mason was hanging less and less on the elbow of Daisy, and more and more on her own.


End file.
